Page 52 of No Save Point

24

Carter

The second I wake up, I know something’s wrong. The bed is empty, missing the one thing I swore I fell asleep holding. I sit up fast, my heart slamming against my ribs, my brain still groggy but already panicking. Where the fuck is she?

My feet hit the floor, my breath uneven, last night flashing through my head like a fever dream.

Haven, beneath me. Tate, as he took her next. Me, letting it happen. Wanting it. My stomach twists, my entire body wired with the kind of tension that shouldn’t be there first thing in the fucking morning. I yank on a hoodie, shoving my hands through my hair as I stumble out of my room, down the stairs, heart still hammering. And then I hear them. Voices. I step into the kitchen, and there she is. Sitting at the counter, coffee in hand, legs curled up in the chair, looking like she belongs here, like she’s always belonged here. And sitting across from her?

Tate. Like nothing happened last night. Like he didn’t fuck her right next to me, didn’t pull her onto his lap, didn’t—.

I freeze, reality slamming into me all at once. Last night happened. And no we’re here.

Tate lifts his mug, nodding toward me. “Morning.”

I swallow hard, trying to process, trying to make sense of why this feels so fucking normal when it should be the opposite of that.

And then Haven looks at me. She smiles, soft, like she wasn’t just sitting here drinking coffee with my asshole brother, like she wasn’t just part of the most insane night of my entire fucking life. There’s something quiet in her eyes, like she sees it all, like she knows I’ve been holding my breath since the second I walked into this room.

She sets her mug down. Stands. Takes one small step forward. And then she kisses me. Like she’s offering an anchor instead of an apology. Like she wants to remind me she’s still mine, even after all of it.

It works. Leaning in, pressing her lips against mine, slow, easy, warm, like this is just another morning. The tension in my chest eases just a little, my hands finding her waist, my head still swimming but my body already reacting to her touch. She pulls back, her brown eyes climbing up to mine, a question in them that I don’t know how to answer yet.

So instead I exhale, grounding myself, and say the only thing I can. “What do you wanna do today?”

Haven hesitates. Her fingers fidget with the rim of her coffee cup, her lips pressing together like she doesn’t want to say what she’s about to say.

And I already hate it. She sighs, finally looking up at me. “I have to leave before the evening.”

My stomach drops, a weight settling in my chest before she even explains.

“Cassie’s been blowing up my phone, wondering where the hell I am.” She lets out a small, breathy laugh, but I can tell it’s forced. “I kinda ghosted her.”

I don’t like how fast time is running out. Tate just shrugs, sipping his coffee like he doesn’t give a shit either way. I need more. I need something before she walks out of my house, out of my town, out of my reach. So I shift closer, leaning against the counter, keeping my voice light, casual, like I’m not trying to make her stay longer than she already planned. “Then let’s go out for lunch,” I offer, watching for her reaction, waiting for any excuse she might come up with.

She tilts her head, studying me, her expression unreadable. I push forward. “And maybe after, you can help me set up my new PC.”

That gets her. I see it, the way her lips part just slightly, the way her fingers stop tapping against her cup, the way the idea of it sparks something behind her eyes.

So I go in for the kill. “That way,” I murmur, “when you get back home… we can game together.”

She swallows. Slow. Like she’s already considering it. And fuck, I hope she does.

Haven stays quiet for a second, rolling the thought around in her head, weighing it, like she’s trying to decide if dragging this out a little longer is a mistake. I don’t like the uncertainty in her eyes, the hesitation, the way she’s still caught between whatever the hell last night was and the reality waiting for her back home.

She nods. “Okay,” she says, voice softer than before. “Lunch. And then… PC stuff.”

It’s not much. But it’s enough. I exhale, the tension in my chest easing just enough for me to relax back against the counter, nodding like this is normal, like this is just another day. Like my entire fucking world isn’t shifting around this girl.

Tate just snorts, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. “Fucking nerds.”

I shoot him a glare, but Haven just laughs, rolling her eyes as she lifts her coffee to her lips. She doesn’t miss a beat, she tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she fixes Tate with a knowing look, fingers tapping against her coffee cup like she’s just waiting for the right moment to strike. “You’re just as much a nerd,” she fires back, her voice laced with challenge, her lips curling like she already knows she’s won. “A nerd who’s a bully online.”

I grin, because fuck yes, I love watching her snap back at him. Tate doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even pretend to be offended. Instead, he leans back, spreading his legs slightly, and does the most fucking Tate thing imaginable.

A slow, lazy hip roll in the chair. Followed by a smirk. Like that’s his response. Like that’s his fucking argument.

Haven’s lips part slightly, like she wasn’t expecting that, like she’s trying not to react. I groan, running a hand down my face. “Fucking Christ, Tate.”

---